


Let Me See Your Fear

by lonestarbabe (neverfeltlesscool), Pigeonsplotinsecrecy



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Cheesy, Concerned Carlos, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stubborn T.K.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfeltlesscool/pseuds/lonestarbabe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy
Summary: T.K. temporarily has vision impairment and Carlos tries to help.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 7
Kudos: 198





	Let Me See Your Fear

Carlos ushered T.K. into his apartment, guiding him through the door so that he didn’t bump into anything. T.K. would have grumbled about not needing help if he didn’t feel so disoriented. He wished he would have gone to the doctor sooner, but he hadn’t thought a little eye irritation had been anything serious. Until his vision had begun to blur, T.K. thought suspected it had just been seasonal allergies. He’d popped a Zyrtec, and hoped for the best, but it hadn’t gotten better. His vision had gotten worse until he could only see basic shapes, and even those were hard to make out, especially when it was dark or overly bright. He’d ignored the signs, and now, he was terrified that his vision issues weren’t going to go away.

With a grunt, T.K. dropped onto Carlos’ couch, and reached for Carlos’ hand so that he could drag him down with him. It took a little searching before Carlos’ fingers intertwined with his and T.K. forced Carlos closer to him. When they’d both settled into their new positions, T.K. let his head fall against Carlos’ chest. They sat there in the quiet room, and Carlos felt the rise and fall of T.K.’s chest, and it was nice to be there together, not having to talk or do anything.

The calmness soothed T.K. a little despite the thoughts that had been whirling in his head all day, but there was that constant worry that his life may be ruined because of his inattention to his health. He feared the damage had already been done and that he’d gotten to the doctor too late. He feared what permanent vision loss would do, and the more he thought, the harder it was to breathe. He fidgeted in Carlos’ arms, throat feeling like sandpaper. If his vision didn’t go back to normal, he wouldn’t be able to work. He wouldn’t even be able to get through his house without bumping into things, probably. Carlos might not want to keep him around.

Carlos could tell T.K. was growing anxious. “Teek? What’s the matter?”

T.K. shook his head, shifting out of Carlos’ arms and standing. “I just need a glass of water.”

“Do you need help?” Carlos was worried that T.K. was doing too much. He wouldn’t even wear the eye patch that the doctor had suggested that he use to protect his eyes. He’d said he didn’t want to look like a pirate even though what the doctor had showed them had been strikingly un-pirate-y. At least he’d had the sense to put on sunglasses when they’d gone outside. Carlos still worried it was too bright, even inside, but T.K. was resistant to obstructing what vision he had left.

“I can get fucking water by myself,” T.K. answered with more bite than he’d intended. He hated being treated like an invalid.

“Sorry,” Carlos replied, his own voice short. He rolled his eyes, “Really shitty of me to try to help my boyfriend.”

“Just let me do this, okay?” T.K. said with less vitriol because he didn’t want to fight.

“Alright,” Carlos said, watching T.K. nearly run into a kitchen chair before correcting his course and finally making it to the kitchen. Not wanting to stare, Carlos turned his attention to his phone, listening carefully in case anything happened while giving T.K. some space. He knew smothering T.K. was always a bad choice.

The sound of glass shattering made Carlos bolt to his feet and rush back to the kitchen. He went behind the counter to see T.K. crouched down, trying to feel for the pieces of glass with his hands.

“T.K. stop. I’ll take care of it.”

“I can do it, Carlos.” Carlos had to bite his lip not to tell T.K. how generally stupid it was to pick up glass with his bare hands, vision impairment or not.

“It’s my kitchen, and my broken glass.”

“Yeah, well, it was my stupidity in your kitchen that broke the glass,” T.K. argued because when he felt anxious, everything became a fight.

“You’re going to get glass shards in your hands.”

“I’m not. I already got the big pieces.”

“It’s the little ones that you can’t see that you have to worry about.”

“Oh my god, you sound like my mother,” T.K. complained, a mix of exasperation and humor in his voice.

“Just stop touching it, and I’ll get the dustpan.” Carlos grabbed the dustpan from under the sink, and crouched down on the floor, pulling T.K.’s hands away. “Your hands are bleeding.”

“Great. Just what I need,” T.K. said through clenched teeth.

“Don’t touch your face. You may have shards of glass on your hands.”

“Maybe I’ll get one in my eye and ruin what vision I have left,” T.K. said melodramatically as he tried to take the dustpan and brush from Carlos, but Carlos held them firmly in his hands, quickly sweeping up to contents of the shattered glass and throwing them in the trash. He’d vacuum up to get any remaining remnants later when T.K. was less likely to get annoyed at him for it. Knowing T.K., he’d probably quip something like “I can’t see it, but I can still hear what you’re doing.”

When Carlos turned around from the garbage can, T.K. was on his feet, pressing a napkin to his palms, pulling them away before Carlos could take a look. “You’re so stubborn.”

T.K. shrugged petulantly. “I wouldn’t have made it this far in life if I wasn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help. The doctor said you should rest. Let me help.”

“Fine, I’ll rest,” but T.K. didn’t move. He really didn’t want to have to navigate the room. Even with what limited vision he had, his eyes were tired and unfocused. The task seemed so daunting, and T.K. had already had a long day. It was a hit to T.K.’s pride to have to say, “You can help me back to the couch if you want.”

Carlos was merciful on T.K. and didn’t make a big deal of it— not even a look of “I was right”—as he took T.K. by the arm and steadied him as they walked the short distance to the couch. “Sit here. I’m going to get something to wipe your hands off.” Carlos grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and dampened it, making sure the water was warm. He sat next to T.K. and was relieved when T.K. let him wash the blood from his hands. This was something T.K. could have easily done himself, and they both knew it, but it made Carlos feel better to do something for T.K. even if it was something so trivial.

When he was done, Carlos put the cloth down on the coffee table and pulled T.K. into his arms. “Do you want me to go get you a glass of water?”

T.K. shook his head. “No, just stay here. Don’t leave me.” Carlos felt the familiar weight of T.K.’s head back on his shoulder, and it immediately eased some of the tension in his muscles. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

“Me too.” He sat there, holding T.K. “I just wanted to help, but I shouldn’t have been snippy.”

“Sitting with me helps,” T.K. admitted. “It helps more than anything else. If I was alone, I’d go crazy with my thoughts.”

“I’ll be here as long as you need,” Carlos promised. “I’ll never leave you if that’s what you want.” T.K.’s mouth opened to respond but closed again. Before any more words could be exchanged, Carlos felt T.K. stiffen and then warm water running down his neck. He could feel T.K. shaking as he cried.

“It’s okay, cariño. It’s okay.” He let T.K. let it all out and whispered sweet Spanish words in T.K.’s ears until T.K.’s sobbing had calmed.

T.K. lifted his head, looking at Carlos with shame in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Carlos hushed him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

T.K.’s eyes still looked guilt-ridden. “What if it’s permanent? What if I’m like this forever?”

“Your doctor was optimistic, but we’ll know more soon,” Carlos reassured. Chances were that once treated, T.K.’s eyes would heal, but there were no guarantees. “She said corneal ulcers usually heal in a couple days.”

“Yeah, Carlos, I was there,” T.K. cut in before he could catch his temper.

Carlos didn’t let himself get flustered at T.K.’s tone. He had to remember how scary this all must be for T.K. “I know, but it helps to be reminded.”

“I should have gone to the doctor sooner.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve.”

Carlos took T.K.’s chin in his hand, “Listen to me. This isn’t in any way your fault. It’s not something you could’ve changed. It happened, and you did the best you could with the information you had at the time. This is how our lives go. As first responders, we go to all kinds of situations that go wrong because even when we do the best we can, we don’t know everything.”

“That doesn’t change this feeling I have that it’s all my fault.”

“I know.” Carlos smiled. “Like I said, you’re stubborn. It takes some time to sort these things out, but no matter what happens, know that I’m stubborn too, so with these two pig heads, we can endure whatever craziness that comes our way. We may have to take it day by day, but we’ll manage.”

Still red-rimmed, T.K.’s eyes became just a little less clouded. “Maybe you should quit being a cop and become a motivational speaker.”

Carlos kissed T.K.’s temple, “Motivational speaking is reserved for the stubborn man I can’t help but love.”

T.K. pressed his lips against Carlos’, lining them up perfectly. He smiled. “Look at that. I’m still pretty good at finding the things that matter most.”

“That you are.” Carlos said between kisses. “That you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! Catch me @lonestarbabe on tumblr.


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